


Aftermath

by Katnerys



Series: The Soldier and her Captain [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The First Avenger, F/M, Female Bucky Barnes, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Drinking, genderswap AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 03:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10324820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katnerys/pseuds/Katnerys
Summary: Bucky falls, Steve's left to try and pick up the pieces.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with more of my femme!Bucky 'verse! This one's pretty much just Steve reflecting after Bucky's "death" in CA:TFA, sort of a lead up to the bar scene with Peggy, with some backstory added in. If you like this, there's definitely going to be more where that came from, as I continue to enjoy writing in this 'verse. That being said, please enjoy.

Steve stares morosely down at the bottom of the empty glass. He’s lost count of how many drinks he’s gone through at this point, and still he feels nothing. Not a damn thing. He’s never had this sort of problem before. Back before the serum, he’d been a complete lightweight. Once, Bucky had snuck some whisky from her parents’ liquor cabinet, and the whole affair ended up with Bucky having to literally carry him home. He spent the next day bent over the toilet, praying his mother would assume he was just sick again. Looking back, she had to have known, he probably reeked of alcohol when he got home, but if she did figure it out, she never said anything.

 

It’s those sorts of experiences that made Steve dislike being drunk, but in a cruel twist of irony, he’s currently at the point that getting completely, mind-numbingly trashed would be a blessing. At least then it would dull the pain. With a sigh, he pours himself another glass, knocks it back, and still, not even a little bit fuzzy. It’s late by now, he knows he should probably be getting some sleep, but every time he closes his eyes all he can see is Bucky.

 

He spent time without her back before he joined the army, but it still feels just as strange and unnatural as it had then. After all, the two had been practically inseparable since they were kids. He can still clearly picture the day they first met. He’d been facing down a couple of bigger kids, a feat that would certainly end with him on the ground sporting a new bruise or two. But then Bucky had come along. Out of nowhere, he saw her, her hair partially slipping loose from the braid she wore, her dress splattered with mud (she had a tendency to do that when she was a kid, much to Mrs. Barnes’ ire)

 

“Leave him alone”, she demanded and the boys just laughed.

 

“This your little girlfriend Rogers?” one of them taunted.

 

Bucky was the first to respond to that, delivering an impressive right hook to the kid’s face. The bullies’ expressions of shock mirrored Steve’s own. 

 

“Leave him alone”, Bucky warned, taking a step toward them.

 

That sent them running, whether out of embarrassment for having had been socked in the jaw by a girl or genuine fear of her, Steve didn’t know. If they were smart, it’d be the latter. Bucky had offered him a hand then, pulling him to his feet and giving him a wide smile, gap where one of her front teeth should be.

 

“My name’s Jane, but you can call me Bucky.”

 

He doesn’t really remember how things played out after that. Apparently Bucky had just decided he was her friend now, and who was he to complain? From then on, they did almost everything together. When Steve would get sick and be confined to his room for days at a time, Bucky would sneak in through his bedroom window and bring him a pack of baseball cards or some bubble gum to cheer him up. That was how it was. They weren’t just Steve and Bucky, they were  _ SteveandBucky,  _ as close as siblings, maybe even closer.

 

There had been a bit of an awkward spell when Bucky started going through puberty. Steve himself had been a late bloomer, hell he hadn't really ever bloomed at all, and it had been a little strange to him when Bucky developed breasts and curves. That was the first time he'd ever thought about the fact she was a girl, not that it mattered to Steve. That was also when boys started to take an interest in her, the one thing that bothered him about it. He hated the way they ogled her, his own mother had raised him to treat women with respect, why couldn’t they have the same decency?

 

Once, when they were teenagers, an older man they passed by whistled at her, and that had set Steve off. The dude was at least in his mid twenties, big and burly, probably the kind of guy who made a living lifting heavy cargo down at the docks. 

 

“Leave her alone, creep”, Steve had yelled, and the man had been about ready to beat his face in, but Bucky got between them, had to physically drag Steve away before the altercation turned violent. Unlike Steve, Bucky knew how to choose her battles, and that hadn’t been the first time she’d prevented Steve from getting the beat down of a lifetime. 

 

“Damn it Rogers”, she’d say, “why do you always have to be the hero?” 

 

He’s never known the answer to that, and now it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because the one time Bucky needed him to be a hero, he failed.

 

He failed and now Bucky’s gone.

 

This is the first time he's questioned choosing to get the serum. Bucky was only ever on that train because he was. He reminds himself that if he hadn't, she would've died anyway, and at least he didn't have to find out from a condolence letter or army officer knocking at his door. Still, he can't help but blame himself. If he'd been just a little quicker, reached a little farther, maybe he could've saved her. 

 

Not having a body to bury makes it all worse. He and the others had held a little memorial service, buried Bucky's flask beneath a tree near the bar they often frequented. The spot was marked with a cross they'd fashioned from two sticks, and it was nothing compared to the funeral Bucky got back home in the states, but it did make them feel a little better. Afterward they'd spent the night drinking, reminiscing about Bucky, laughing and sharing stories.

 

“Barnes had a vocabulary that could make a sailor blush”, Gabe laughed.

 

“Never met another woman who could hold her booze like Barnes”, Dum-Dum chimed in, “Hell, haven't met a lot of men who could.”

 

Steve smiled, laughed along, and though it was nice, afterwards he was still left feeling empty and hurt. 

 

Hydra has to be burned to the ground. He'd known it before, but now it's even clearer. It’s personal, in fact it’s been personal since he found Bucky strapped to that lab table. He still has no idea what exactly they'd done to her, she’d been vague at best when it was brought up. He knows she'd made a report and gave it to Phillips after she was rescued, and Steve suspected there were probably details in it he hadn't been given, but they weren't his to look at. 

 

Whatever had happened, he knows it was bad. Physically she got through it with only a few cuts and bruises, but while she was still the same cocky asshole she'd always been, Steve always noticed something different in her eyes. That's what happens during a war. People are never quite the same afterwards. Steve hadn't realized it before, but he does now. He wonders if he should've asked her about it, if talking would’ve made her feel a little better. He supposes in the end it doesn't really matter, she's gone now, wondering and regretting won't change that. Neither will destroying Hydra, but he hopes that at the very least, it will do something to heal the ache in his soul. 

 

For now, he just has to get through each day as best he can. It's like when his mom died, but at least then he'd had Bucky. Bucky, who let him cry on her shoulder, who stayed with him when it got too lonely and cared for him when he got sick. Now he’s not alone. He has his team, he has Peggy. He's also pretty sure he's not going to be getting sick anytime soon. It should be easier, but it's not. He doubts it ever will be. 

 

God, what he wouldn't give to be a sickly kid back in Brooklyn again, if it meant Bucky was still by his side, it'd be worth it. Putting his own life on the line is something he's willing to do if it means he’s fighting for what he believes in, but Bucky's life? He realizes he wasn't willing to at all. If anyone deserved to walk out of this alive, to go home and have a happy ending, it was Bucky. Now she’d never have the chance. She’s gone, and she’s never coming back. 

 

Those thoughts make Steve take another drink, though when he swallows it down, it’s just as ineffective as the others. He doesn't plan on stopping though. After all, he's always been bad at knowing when to give up. So he sighs, and pours another drink, and settles in because it's going to be a long, long, night.

  
  
  



End file.
